


All's Fair

by pendragonfics



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Carnival, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, F/M, Ferris Wheels, Good Draco Malfoy, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, gender neutral reader, no pronouns for reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendragonfics/pseuds/pendragonfics
Summary: A day off at the carnival with Draco turns out differently than expected.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	All's Fair

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Tumblr emoji request! The request? 🎡
> 
> [ ~~also I am literally procrastinating writing my uni essays by writing fanfiction DON'T FLAME LOL~~ ]

It’s a beautiful day; the sort of day that you suppose only happens in fictional places, like books or movies. But it’s real, and there’s not a cloud in sight. The sky is a perfect blue, and there’s not enough wind to make a fuss, but the kites that litter the sky in manmade rainbows draw out the laugher of the crowds. It’s not often the fair comes to the countryside; there are markets, sure, but this is something else.

“You know I have cases to work on,” Draco whined.

But with every plea, you push it to the back of your mind. Instead, you keep on tugging at his hand, onward into the field. This place is usually where the local football team hosts home games, but today - in fact, all week - it’s home to a colourful array of oddities and fascinations.

“Come on, _love_.” He protests.

If you were in any way swayed by his appeal (you are) he’d get his way instantly (he usually does) but today is different. You’re determined on it. You tug him past the ring toss, the balancing games, and pull him onwards. It doesn’t matter that you’re parting crowds to get to where you want to be. They seem to move around you and pulling Draco through makes short work as you make your way.

“You can’t get out of this!”

“I could if I tried really hard,” he replies. You scrunch your face up into a glare, and backtracking, he adds, “but I don’t, because I love you.”

“I don’t know if I should be glad, or scheming to make you do things I want…” you retort.

He only hums in response.

You’ve managed to breach the crowds for the moment, and stopping, Draco collides with your back. It’s a sight to behold. It was visible from the outside of the field - it’s a small town; there’s hardly anything more than two flights tall at this end of the country - but ahead, is a behemoth of a Ferris Wheel. It looks like it was painted red over the steel beams once upon a time, but it’s faded to a soft pink that warms your heart. It’s as pretty as a postcard.

“Oh _no_.”

You beam.

Not ten minutes later, your fare is paid, and after inching through the line, you and your boyfriend are ushered into the two-person carriage. The other riders come in a variety; the elderly married couples who look like they do this every time the fair comes, young teenagers in love, parents and their children that are tall enough to ride. As a uniformed attendant secures the pair of you in, Draco turns your way. 

“I wonder how old this thing is,” he says idly.

“Draco!” you admonish. “I’m sure this is perfectly safe.”

He raises a brow at that. “It’s practically antique. I wonder how many lawsuits it’s had in its time…”

You roll your eyes. As if he could go without mentioning his work. Of course, that was his everything; he’d divorced himself from his father for it (that, and because he’d started dating you, and his very posh East London daddy couldn’t see past your low birth and humanities degree). He’d recently been made partner at the local firm, and seeing as that kept him all hours, the pair of you hardly had time with each other.

“ _Babe_ ,” you insist.

He nods and doesn’t speak any more on the matter.

You hardly hear the safety announcement, but sitting so close to Draco, you can’t help but feel the world around you melt away. He smells the same as always; like mint, the pricey aftershave from the chemists and a hint of woodsmoke. Leaning into his side as the ride begins, you feel his chuckle through your cheek.

“I can’t believe we’ve never gone on a ride together,” he says idly, as the ground level gets smaller beneath your carriage. “It’s…peaceful.”

You look up, but don’t move. From this angle, he looks just as handsome as ever, and you smile. “Is that _the_ Draco Malfoy, speaking kindly about something leisurely?”

“Don’t you tell anyone,” he threatens in jest.

Once the Ferris Wheel gets fairly high, he nudges you and points toward the horizon. “Can you see it? That lump in the distance.” You peer that way, but alas, it’s hard to discern with your eyesight. How Draco spent all his time reading in poorly lit rooms and didn’t need glasses was beyond you. “That’s Liverpool.”

Just then, the ride makes a noise, and you freeze, squeaking. Before you can ask of it, though, the ride comes to a stand-still, and beside you, you can practically feel the smugness rolling off of your boyfriend like a fortune teller reading an aura.

“Don’t say it,” you moan.

“ _I told you so_ ,” he titters.

From the other carriages, you can hear a mixed response. But you try to ignore them; somehow it makes you more nervous, thinking about the matter at hand. Instead, you huddle in closer to Draco’s side. He’s not the most affectionate person, your Draco. When you first met, he wasn’t even used to being touched by people, let alone prospective lovers. But now, he welcomes your touch, even initiates it.

“I wonder how long we’ll be up here,” you shiver.

Draco notices, and asks you, “Cold?”

You hum.

Carefully, he begins to shrug his jumper off. But instead of passing it to you, he puts it over your head and dresses you in his clothing. You slip your arms into the sleeves, and invigorated, lean back to his side in a less lethargic manner. The wind at this height is more than what you felt on the ground, but now you’re shielded from its effects. While your boyfriend usually runs cold, he’s warm beside you and continues to point out things in the distance that you can’t see.

“I’m sure you can see Manchester, it’s over that way,” he insists.

You peer that way, but in the midday sun, it’s almost too bright to focus wholly on what Draco claims to be the home of the acclaimed football team. You don’t notice his fidgeting, but when you look back to Draco, all words are stolen from you.

“It was supposed to be more romantic than this,” he grumbles, but even his ministrations can’t dim the ecstasy that’s filling your entire being.

In his hands, Draco cradles a ring box. It’s the one from the antique store across from your apartment; the one that you’d liked ever since you first saw it. It sits nestled in a box of blue velvet, and it’s so very small in comparison to Draco’s hands as he holds it your way.

“You didn’t…” you breathe.

He smiles and rests his arm on the bar that secures you both into the carriage. “__________, love,” he says, “I know I’m not the easiest to get along with. Potter knows, Parkinson knows…but you never let that get in the way. I knew I would love you ever since we met - I’ve never known anyone as brave as you, like when you stood up to my father, the prat -,”

“Don’t focus on the idiot, Dray,” you remind him softly.

“- and you’re the smartest, kindest, sexiest, most cunning person I’ve ever met, and I can’t let you go. I refuse to. So, __________ - my gorgeous, sweet __________, will you do me the absolute honour and privilege, of marrying me?”

You nod, overcome with emotion, “Yes,” you say, almost a whisper. “Oh my gosh, Draco. Yes!”

Carefully, he extracts the ring and slides it upon your finger. You’re not sure if he’s had it resized or not, but it fits as if it was made for you. Just as he pockets the box once more, you feel another jolt, and fearfully, move closer to Draco’s side. But instead of the unfamiliar sensation of plummeting to a death fall, the Ferris Wheel whirs back to life.

“See? Everything’s fine now,” he says, kissing your forehead.

A small voice in your head wonders if he paid someone to stall the ride. But it’s hardly loud enough over the excitement you’re now wearing on your ring finger, and the question is soon forgotten.

“Now _that_ ,” you tell kiss him, “is going to be a hell of a story.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr on as @chaotic--lovely, and if you want to request a fic, check out [@pendragonfics](https://pendragonfics.tumblr.com/request_conditions)! ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


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